


Mountain Magic

by illyth



Series: Amadel [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual Drug influenced public sex, F/M, Female Bilbo, Fertility Magic that is just porn, I don't want to give everything away!, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating Changed, Rebuilding Erebor, Ritual Public Sex, Rituals, fem!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 05:40:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4654443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyth/pseuds/illyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second spring after the battle arrives at the Lonely Mountain. The royal couple must face personal and political crises to restore the kingdom to glory. Can Billa Baggins shoulder the weight of ancient magic, marriage and maybe motherhood?</p><p>Sequel to Mountain Mother</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Furkhêkurikl Danukkhulbüzidîn or the Seeding of the Fertile Fields

**Author's Note:**

> Oh sweet lord! I AM BACK! 
> 
> I happy to announce that my marriage went off without a hitch and after a long, and wonderful honeymoon I am ready to begin posting the second installment of the Amadel series. I was originally posting a one shot between the two stories but decided to absorb it into the second story entirely. 
> 
> Billa is going to have a tough time of it, but I hope you will all join me for this great adventure! The next chapter is written and will be posted in 2 weeks.

**Furkhêkurikl Danukkhulbüzidîn or the Seeding of the Fertile Fields**

 

All around the mountain winter was fighting to keep its grip on the land, snow still piled in the ditches and icy winds kept faces red and chapped; above it all stood a small figure their full skirt billowing in the wind that rushed down from the mountain’s peak. The figure frowned down at the frozen lands around the mountains foot; the hold of winter was still too strong for her to begin the work she loved best, the craft of planting and nurturing, of producing fare hearty enough to feed her family, her people. She could summon the scent of the dark earth from last year’s memories and she could revel in the small sprouts she tended through the darkness in her work room, but she was yearning and desperate to sink her hands and feet into real soil again. Of course her vision was currently tinted rose from the time that had passed since last spring, she knew that her body would be aching and her nights would be short as soon as the ground thawed but she couldn’t find it in herself to care; for she was a Hobbit and spring had already begun back in the Shire, her family had already begun their travel back home to meet it.

“Your Majesty,” a young dwarrow stepped onto the balcony, one of Balin’s young runners who was new enough to the mountain that tall tales still preceded her, though she had finally convinced him he needn’t bow quite so deeply anymore. “Lord Balin and Ori have requested a seat to afternoon tea, if your table still has room.”

Billa’s schedule was more hectic than it had been in the Shire but the Queen still maintained a proper day that included elvensies and afternoon tea, though the fare did not include a shire style spread, as winter continued the mountain had undergone shortages of most everything and she was not one to eat lavishly while her people were reduced to flavorless, though still filling, fare.

“Please, remind my **_nadad_** that my table is his as well and I shan’t have him requesting his presence at family meals.”

“Of course my Queen.” Quickly he darted back inside to carry her message to Balin, Billa turning to follow behind her guards silent in their shadowing of her. Tea maybe simple but should still be prepared with care.

* * *

 

“So it’s a fertility rite?” Billa queried as she stirred her tea, Balin and Ori flavoring their cups as well.

“That is a very apt description.” replied Balin, “Did you have any in the Shire? I want to be certain to explain everything adequately.”

Billa couldn’t help but chuckle, “You could say that every marriage in the Shire is a fertility rite. Most couples have their first babe within a year.”

Billa would have again been the odd duckling back home, she and Thorin had been married for six months and she still was not with child. Billa found it vexing but Thorin said it was normal for dwarrow couples to wait decades for a pregnancy. “But we don’t have a specific festival or ritual for fertility, no.”

Balin and Ori engaged in a silent conversation over their teacups, their eyebrows were so expressive Billa was almost afraid to ask questions at all. “Would this ritual be like Durin’s Day? Or Lithe?”

“Not quite.” Ori gave a nervous chuckle “This is a bit more, um, public?” He blushed furiously.

“It will be quite a bit different in that it is actually a ritual and not just a celebration with a large feast. Though there will be a feast as well.” Ever the teacher Balin began to explain the origins of the Furkhêkurikl Danukkhulbüzidîn or the Seeding of the Fertile Fields in Westron.

“In the beginning there was Eru Illuvatar and his Valar and as he created the First born and waited to sing them awake the other Valar became jealous. What offspring did they have to give glory to their name and craft? So Aule created the dwarves and named himself Mahal, or Maker. But Eru discovered this treachery and ordered Aule’s creations be broken back into stone and dust. This brought great sadness to the Vala for he had crafted them with his own hands and named them, they were his children though they did not move or speak and Eru saw this love and allowed the Dwarves to be born into existence, second born to his Elves.

But Aule had a wife, a goddess of all things green and growing and she had no children of her own and there was none of her in Mahal’s creations so she pleaded to her husband, “Craft me children of my own and let them be a piece of me and you so all will know you care for me.” Like any good husband he did as his wife ordered and so hobbits were born. Soon all of the races were put onto Arda to tend it or destroy it as was their calling. So the seven fathers and mothers settled in their Mountain halls and mined the earth and the Hobbits settled in the Anduin Vale and tilled and toiled. They were happy.

Until one winter the snow grew deep and Morgoth’s children scratched at the door. The Children of Mahal were starving for they had no skill at keeping the earth and creating stores for winter. Their skill was in battle and mining, forging and crafting and slowly they starved. But the watchful nights receded eventually and the people emerged from their Halls, hungry and bitter for the privation they had lived. They went to Mahal’s alter a great statue of mithril of the finest craftsmanship, and their wisest Priests and craft masters sat in deep meditation. For five days they sat and meditated together asking the Maker for guidance and support and on the sixth day the floor of the alter split and smoke poured from it. And when they breathed the smoke from the rock they heard Mahal’s voice.

“My children” some said his voice was booming, others said collected yet commanding “you seek guidance from me in the matters of the green earth when I have no knowledge to share. I bid you pray to my wife and Consort the Green Lady, for she and hers are the keepers of the wheat and grass. She is not like us my children and finds no love in metals and gems but perhaps you can craft something to appease her in prayer.”

So the seven kingdoms banded together sending forth their finest weavers and metals smiths to Khazad-dum to create an offering for the Consort. They made a robe of deepest green, like meadow grass in high summer, they trimmed it with gold for wheat and a crown was forged of delicate mithril with every flower they could find shown on it in glittering gems. They toiled for months and finally when they finished they took it to the temple and prayed. Again they prayed for five days and again on the sixth day the alter floor broke and instead of smoke a plant with a golden flower sprang forth.

“My Husbands children, you have crafted me a beautiful gift that combines the beauty of my realm with the glory of my husbands’. I am well pleased! I will help your fields be fertile and crops grow in a great bounty but I cannot work my magic as I once could for I am far across the sea but I bid you to seek two avatars of myself and your Father, dress them as we would dress in armor and silks and lavish them richly. Then before the whole of your Kingdom have them pray at this alter. We shall bless them as you wish to be blessed and their happiness will sustain your harvest.”

And her voice faded from their minds leaving the scent of a summer breeze and the heat of the sun on their skin. It so happened that only a few years prior the Prince of their Kingdom had married a beautiful dam with hair of gold and eyes of blue and the couple was much loved by the people. So they were chosen as the avatars of the Valar. Their people bathed them in scented water and braided their hair with mithril and gold, they feasted sumptuously from their stores. No expense was spared and at last the Princess was clad in the green robe and crown of Yavanna and the Prince in the finest armor any had ever seen and together they prayed at the altar of Mahal. Time passed and they slipped deep into a trance and their bodies went limp and their eyes glazed until they seemed almost sleeping. Suddenly, they sat up and looked at their hands and garments. They turned to each other and spoke. “My wife.” the voice was not their Prince’s but Mahal’s “You look beautiful.” “You are very dashing as well husband.” The lilting tones of Yavanna came from the Princess. “Let us help your children grow a great garden, come to me my King for the fields are fertile and need only love and time to bear fruit.”

 In front of the kingdom the two came together and loved each other deeply. For a day they came together again and again as the people watched and rejoiced to see the strength of their future King and Queen. And when they finished the two fell into a deep sleep and the next day the fields were planted. Time passed into summer and the crops sprouted and grew and more calves were birthed than ever before. Every aspect of the summer was ideal and brought them a great bounty. Soon it was discovered that the Princess was pregnant and many believed she conceived during the ritual; so the people rejoiced further for not only would they be well fed but there would be a new Royal in their mountain.”

“And that is the festival Furkhêkurikl Danukkhulbüzidîn, we only hold it during times of great need and only when there are two avatars for Mahal and Yavanna to work through, which is why we’re having it this year.”

“What is so special about this year?” Billa queried “Surely we had greater need last year?” Of course they had, their stores had barely made it through this winter and this year would be a battle as well.

“Only married couples of the royal line are allowed to participate.” Balin blushed only slightly in comparison to Ori who had been red faced for the last twenty minutes.

“Wait,” Billa took a deep breath “you mean that you want Thorin to.... to TUP me in front of the whole mountain!?” Balin could not keep his face from flashing red “Technically it will be Mahal and Yavanna, not you and Thorin.”

Billa would have made a smart remark about it still being her bare bottom on display for all and sundry if she hadn’t fainted instead.

* * *

 

“That did not go the way I hoped.” Balin admitted as he waited with Thorin and Ori in the living room, awaiting Oin’s exit from the bedroom where Billa had been deposited to save her from awakening on the floor.

Thorin snorted, “If you expected her to swoon from the sheer honor then you are losing you edge.”

“I didn’t expect her to swoon at all!” Balin flapped his hands about in his agitation “Honestly, I hardly expected her to find the idea on par with burgling from a ‘furnace with wings’.” The two would have continued their conversation, eventually turning it into a row, if Oin had not exited the bedroom in that moment.

“She’s fine! She’s fine!” the grizzled dwarf shouted, cutting off the swarm of questions and concerns from the other two, “Didn’t knock her head or anything, sounds like she fainted very gracefully all things considered but she would like a word with you Thorin and said she would get back to everyone later about the Seeding.” Oin quickly excused himself; his day did not stop because one hobbit fainted!

Thorin left Balin to salvage the rest of the days appointments for both the King and Queen, appointments were sometimes pushed back or changed entirely, something the population of Erebor attributed to the couple languishing in the “honeymoon” phase of the marriage but more likely because they needed desperately to sleep or escape the mountain entirely.

The fire burnt low in grate and cast long shadows on the wall, giving the room a feeling of late evening instead of the middle of the afternoon. His wife was sitting up in bed, her fur coat and dress switched to a simple nightgown.

Thorin knew his wife could have a temper to rival his own but Billa was also so much younger than him, it was only a year ago that she shared intimacy with another person and now she was asked to share it with an entire population. “Billa?” she stayed quiet, her eyes not leaving the fire but her hand beckoned him closer.

“You realize this is-” her breath hitched “very strange to me.” With gentle yet firm fingers Thorin turned her head away from the fire making her meet his gaze, her green eyes usually so verdant were dull and tears were beginning to gather in the corners.

“Oh **_kurdel_** ,” he wrapped his wife in his arms, settling on the bed next to her, allowing her to curl into him, “it is not something we have practiced often, long before the fall of Erebor, as we only do it in times of great need. My Grandfather and Grandmother were the last to participate in the Seeding and they were both very young when they did so, only just in their first century. Thror fell into gold sickness far before I was old enough to receive tutelage on such a subject and Thrain went wandering as well, luckily for us my Mother was much more open about these kinds of expectations and my Grandmother felt it her duty to pass such things on to her new daughter.” Thorin took a moment to settle them both on top of the bed, Billa spooned to his chest.

“There is much ritual before the actual ceremony and we would be entering a state of deep meditation. I am not sure if we would become the true embodiment of the Vala or if we are merely to reenact the first Seeding but we would not be doing it with out normal faculties. The priests will have us use different substances to help us achieve our mind set, special oils and fumes that will dull our minds and inhibitions. Grandmother said it was very much like not being there at all. She could feel an intense burning, a need and knew that Thror could help quench it, but she doesn’t remember everything that happened, the entire event being a haze of memories that she could not recall, though no one could look her in the eye for many weeks after.”

Billa gave a small snort into his shirt, her voice was small but no choked with tears, “I imagine not. I don’t think I could look anyone in the eyes ever again.” 

“Would you be embarrassed to do the harvest dance in the Shire?” he asked, knowing already what the answer would be.

“Of course not! That would be such an honor, the whole of the Shire depending on you to give a great performance, all the work and practice that must be done to make everything perfect. I always wanted to give the harvest dance, like Mama and Papa did.”

Thorin smiled to himself, glad that his knowledge of Hobbits did not fail him, “Then think of this not as a Hobbit but as a Dwarrow, this is an honor only possible with the participation of the royal family and it is magic that we use only in times of greatest need. Just because we have not celebrated this in several centuries does not mean we have forgotten it, that we do not teach its importance. This is not an opportunity for voyeurs but a moment of great reverence. Anyone who treated it like a peep show would find themselves bare faced and homeless before the next bell rang.”

Billa chuckled and allowed her hands to rub up and down her husband’s chest.

“Though don’t be surprised it everyone runs from the hall immediately, that is partially the point after all to promote fertility in all parts of the mountain, not just the fields and livestock and everyone will want to take advantage of any lingering magicks.” He moved the hand that was cradling Billa’s head down her back to rest on her hip, running his thumb across the expanse of Billa’s lower stomach. “Perhaps this is the moment we need to start a family of our own.”

Billa’s entire body froze, her breath stuttering out of her throat, it was perhaps cruel of Thorin to play upon his wife’s desire for a child, he knew that she wanted and yearned for one and feared the trouble they had had in conceiving lay in her still irregular cycles, but he also knew that dwarrow were not a fertile people and some couples took decades to have babe.

Oh and Billa did ache, she wanted so badly to give her husband a child. She had never doubted her want for children and though she was a little younger than she thought she would be, she couldn’t deny how much it would mean to fall pregnant; to herself, her husband and her people.

“Perhaps I will stop giving you advice on negotiation skills, if insist on using them against me.” She teased and dropped her hands to cover Thorin’s wandering one on her pelvis.

 He let his voice go dark and deep and dipped to catch Billa’s lips in a slow kiss, “Perhaps you should.” Billa went pliant in his arms and arched up into the kiss. Maybe the population of the kingdom wasn’t so wrong in their assumptions of the royal couple after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Hello Pumpkins! Thank all so much for the response for Chapter One, I am glad so many people were excited for me to start posting again. You can all thank the U.S.A holiday of Labor Day for this early posting. I will be too busy drinking, grilling and playing awesome mid-western lawn games to post you to everyone who liked, followed, favorited and especially commented!
> 
> See you all again in two weeks!

**Chapter Two**

The serving staff of Erebor was a small force, not many dwarves found their calling in keeping households but the ones who did were just as proud as any master jeweler or miner. They lived a life of routine punctuated by state visits and great feasts. They were all exhausted from the long winter and many tasks were only now being caught up on; like laundry.

Two dams with honey colored hair stood around a large metal tub, a low burning fire keeping the water steaming. The sisters, Tiama and Diama gossiped as servants were wont to do as they stirred the linens inside with extended wooden paddles, when a younger dam wheeling a cart full of soiled laundry came into the room interrupting them.

“I swear if I wasn’t so happy for them I’d kill them for all this extra work.” The two burst into laughter at the exasperation and distaste on the girl’s face as armful after armful of dirty bed sheets were added to the tub.

“I take it you just came from the royal suites?” Tiama teased the new comer who had dark brown hair pulled into a tight bun.

“What gave it away?” the brunette grunted as she bailed the cart, “My new courting beads from the Prince or that only their Majesties run through this many sets of clean sheets?” 

The women burst into laughter. They had worked in the royal household back in Ered Luin and the King had never had so much dirty laundry before. As wash women they tended to know a lot more about the royal family’s activities than anyone else and the only safe place to talk of the things they knew or suspected was amongst each other.

“This is the sixth week that we haven’t had to treat blood stains.” Diama commented, removing her paddle from the water and heading to the drink bucket.

Tiama snorted, “Tosh, you know the Queen’s cycles are never regular. We all thought she was pregnant after the wedding but winter just put her off. You were sure then too.”

“Oh but this is different,” the youngest agreed “I’m sure of it this time.”

“I’m guessing they are just practicing for the **_Furkhêkurikl Danukkhulbüzidîn_** , wouldn’t want the King to have a bout of stage fright now would we?” the three women tittered at the possibility of King Thorin having any sense of shyness. Everyone was astonished when Lord Balin announced that the King and Queen would be conducting the ritual and thinking of what would happen in several weeks made color bloom in the women’s cheeks beyond the heat of the room. The ritual would surely be beautiful even though they knew what was supposed to happen; realizing they would soon see their monarchs naked and passionate was another matter entirely. No one was sure who to be more jealous of, the King or the Queen. The idea of such gorgeous creatures making love over and over had most of the Mountain chomping at the bit for the powerful magic the two would be weaving.

If the Queen didn’t get pregnant from the Seeding then it may never happen!

“Even so,” Tiama interrupted their gutter thoughts “it’s not our place to speculate beyond these walls. Though Valar knows we can still be jealous.” The three women descended into giggles as they started up a bawdy conversation about the suspicious stains that had been found on the Crown Prince’s sheets.

* * *

 

The serving people of Erebor were not only washwomen, they were porters, maids, cook and tailors and everyone answered to the majordomo of the palace. Dori son of Ri was a tailor by trade, a skill that had helped keep his family in bread and shelter throughout the exile but his craft would always be, as Nori called it “professional mother-henning”. The royal house of Ered Luin had been small by necessity and most of its staff had filled more than one occupation and though Dori was talented they had no room for him at the time. But now, after a yearlong trek across the continent Dori had been able to practice his heart craft. His attention to detail and demand for cleanliness in rooms and dress had helped him take charge of the growing staff of Erebor.

The majordomo in mention was holding a spoon above a cupped hand sampling a new soup recipe. “This is just amazing Bombur. You say it has mustard powder in it?” Dori took another sample of the soup which brought a pleasant lingering heat to his tongue.

Bombur’s face was split in a wide smile at the success of his new soup, “Yes, along with a little cayenne for that extra kick-”

The cook was interrupted when the kitchen door flew open and Billa Baggins, Queen Under the Mountain, stormed into the room.

Her face was set in a deep scowl as her hands worked to secure her hair in a low bun, Ginta and Ranka taking up post inside the kitchen doors as she swept past Dori and Bombur and into the pantry.

“I take it she’s had a bad day?” Dori questioned tentatively as the sound of canisters slamming onto shelves was joined by half spoken grumbles.

“Absolute clot head-. Can’t stand him-”

The noises that began erupting from the pantry were audible to the entire staff, which had all stopped in their work to stare from the pantry door to the two guards with questioning looks.

 “Not a good day at all Lord Dori.” Ginta deadpanned.

Billa loosed a long sentence in Quenya, which Dori strongly suspected was not appropriate for a Queen before exiting the pantry with full arms heading towards an open work top.

“Billa,” Bombur went to stand behind the hobbit placing his hands on her arms before she started cracking eggs into a bowl. “What in the world is wrong?”

“Nothing, everything is going swimmingly.” she snapped at the hefty dwarf then sighed letting her face soften and shoulders hunch in regret for her sharp tone.

Bombur turned to look behind him sending Dori a pointed gaze before gesturing to the rest of the room where everyone was listening in trying hard to seem like they were still “working”.

Dori let out a sharp whistle that took everyone’s eyes from the Queen, “Look lively people! You have three hours until dinner and I know you haven’t even started on the starter yet!” Dori continued to shout directions at the serving staff as he walked to each station effectively removing Billa and Bombur from the center of attention.

Bombur turned the small woman to face him, “I know you only make emulsions when you’re looking to work out some frustration.”

“It is truly nothing.” Billa turns back to her mixing, her arms working at a much slower pace now. “Lord Fivl was his usual depreciating self and normally I can handle him, truly I can.”

Bombur nodded along, grabbing the flour and butter from the counter, folding them together to begin a crust for Billa’s filling. Fivl had been trouble for centuries and the tenacious dwarf refused to die. Bombur assumed it was purely out of spite. In Ered Luin he blocked every attempt to treat for outside aid from other races. The dwarf was a xenophobe and hadn’t liked Billa from the moment he laid eyes on her.

“But today, today he just made me so angry! And not keeping my temper in check just made it worse. He was no worse than normal, said nothing he hasn’t said before but I just- I just”

“You just need a break.” Bombur finished for her. “No one actually has endless patience Billa and all Balin or Thorin or anyone can ask is that when it gets too much and you feel about to burst you come to us or go to your garden, don’t let it build upside until you explode like Thorin does.”

“Ha! I don’t think you have to worry about that. I don’t think I will ever threaten to remove someone’s toes no matter how angry I get.”

“No” Bombur laughed “I can’t see you doing that, withholding dessert yes, mutilation and threats, not so much. Come now let’s get this tart in the oven and I will have it sent up for you and Thorin after dinner.”

“Thank you Bombur I think between this talk and the promise of lemon tarts this day might just be salvageable.”

* * *

 

The lemon tart really was delicious, Billa thought as she alternately fed Thorin and herself. Each bite made her husband hum in delight and his tongue was dedicated to finding every lingering taste of lemon on the fork.

“If this is what happens when you get angry I may have to leave you in charge of the council more often.” Thorin teased as Billa took a large bite for herself.

“If you want more tarts dear husband you need only ask.” Billa replied nipping back at her husband’s lips as he dove in to chase the lingering lemon on her tongue.

 Billa awoke to dark chambers, the lack of fire in the grate telling that the household staff was still asleep. Thorin was a warm presence at her back and she squirmed back into his embrace, fitting her bottom to his groin and relishing in the aches that lingered from earlier. She sighed, she loved her husband with all her heart but these moments, precious seconds stolen together, were too far apart sometimes. After leaving breakfast the two rarely crossed paths in their daily duties, if Thorin was overseeing the mines then Billa was in the throne room, if Billa was in the fields Thorin was in trade talks. Even with Dis, Fili and Kili helping there was no end to the items that needed the royals’ attention. So for a moment Billa lay with her husband enjoying his arms around her and his even breathing on her neck.

Thorin’s reflexes woke him when Gage entered the room to build up the fire and light the torches. A seasoned servant Gage did not speak to the King allowing him the illusion of privacy of a quiet awakening with his wife.

“Billa,” Thorin nuzzled into Billa’s hair, placing light kisses on the back of her neck, “time to wake up.” He withdrew the arm being used as a pillow to prop himself up and looked down at Billa’s face, her green eyes already staring back at him. “Were you already up?”

“Only for little while.” she admitted using her fingers to scratch his still growing beard reveling in the coarse texture.

Thorin stretched his neck out baring the underside of his chin to Billa’s attention. Her fingers scratched against his skin soothing the itch that came with having new hair on tender skin, he knew the discomfort would fade as his beard filled out but secretly he hoped Billa would continue to scratch it for him even then.

“You really are a giant cat.” Billa giggled when Thorin’s eyes fluttered shut and every part of him went boneless except the tendons holding his head up. He let loose a rumble from deep in his chest at her teasing, letting his exhaled breath roll in the back of his throat and making a noise as close to a purr as one could get and not have four paws and a tail.

“So this tom cat likes to be scratched hmm?” with a little effort Billa pushed Thorin from where he hovered over her onto his back, quickly moving to straddle his waist, “do you want petting on other spots, tom cat?”

Thorin looked up at her through hooded eyes as his wife’s hands descended from his beard to the dark hair on his chest, carefully running her fingernails from his sternum to his navel. With each trail of her nails he felt himself harden against her rear, until the insistent pressure caused her to shift her center to allow room for his growing cock.

He purred louder and placed his hands on his hobbit’s ample hips holding her in place as her ground up and against her. Billa’s hands faltered as she moaned, pausing her ministrations to rest on his chests, her nails digging into the sensitive skin of his paps and catching against his nipples in a pleasant sting.

“Let me ride you.” She demanded with hooded eyes as she began to work her shift off her body and over her head throwing it carelessly onto the floor. He nodded in agreement as he hurried to shove his pants down, pushing Billa onto her knees so he could kick them off one leg but too impatient to free them from the other.

When Billa gripped his cock in her hand he threw his head back and groaned and when she ran the head up and down her slit, teasing him by dipping it just past her lips barely letting him feel the heat and wet of her.

Slowly, drawing in one inch at a time raising herself back off before thrusting in a little more, Billa descended onto him. Each small taste had him thrusting upwards trying to bury himself in her fully but she would not allow it and when her ass came to rest against his thighs he was trembling with need.

“Billa please,” he moaned screwing his eyes shut as she tightened her muscles around him “please move.”

So she did.

With sure and even strokes Billa began to ride her King and with every thrust she would open herself to him before clamping down on him tightly, as if to hold him inside her forever. With every flex of her muscles Thorin felt his back tense as his balls began to tingle and his lower stomach was trembling with the tension. Knowing his stamina was quickly fading he moved one hand from Billa’s hips and onto her clit, stopping her long enough to gather some of the wetness from between them. And when their pace began again Thorin used to fingers to rub tight circles around her pearl, touching it directly only sparingly.

“Thorin,” she panted above him her hands moving to his chest to brace herself as she forced herself to continue riding at a steady pace. “I’m close. Oh gods, I’m close!”

With every thrust Billa’s breathing hitched and her legs began to tremble around Thorin’s waist, he watched her eyes screw shut as she worked her muscles, forcing them to contract and relax in chase of her release.

“Do it, Billa.” He told her, his voice low as his orgasm crept closer. He fought to keep his eyes open to watch his wife take her pleasure. He circled her clit again using one finger to rub directly upon it and he felt her body shudder around his, her back arching impossibly as a rush of wetness spilled onto his groin, looking to prolong her pleasure Billa ground against him bucking wildly in his grip as he felt the familiar shock run down his spine and into his balls as he emptied himself inside his Queen.

Sated and spent the royal couple fell back onto the bed taking a few moments to bathe in the afterglow.

* * *

 

This day was no less daunting but much less aggravating for Billa. Instead of leading the council meeting or taking a tour of the repairs she was happy to give her voice and presence to open audiences. One might say that this was Billa’s favorite part of her job. Every request she heard was a chance to help her people, to directly influence the course of the rest of their lives. Some were young ones looking for an apprenticeship but they could not afford the fees or couples looking for quarters of their own. Billa had enormous resources at her disposal; she had the money to sponsor thousands of apprentices, the Queens’ scholarship students even had their own shared apartments allowing them to focus solely on their studies instead of trying to keep themselves fed and clothed while working for their mastery. She had maps of every district in Erebor and any couple willing to clean out their rooms would find themselves moving within the week.

She got to meet the hard working people that made up her kingdom; she got to know their troubles and dreams. This, more than the crown or the coronation made Billa feel like a Queen.

 “Kira daughter of Mira to see you your majesty.” a herald announced Billa’s next petitioner as he led a thin and gaunt dam into the room, a dwarfling held the woman’s hand tightly trying to stay hidden behind her skirts and she had a pack on her back that as she walked closer revealed a small face with a large nose peeking from the fabric.

“Queen Billa” the dam dropped into a low curtsey tugging her son into a clumsy bow. “I am Kira of Ered Mithrin, the Grey Mountains.” Kira kept her eyes to the floor as she spoke though her son kept stealing glances towards Billa, his eyes darting from her crown to her hairy feet. Billa could see the dirt and dust coating the child’s face covering sharp cheekbones and a thin face.

Kira looked to Billa and if her son’s face was thin his mother’s was even worse, the skin was translucent and pulled tight across her skull, her breasts that should have been full for nursing seemed almost nonexistent beneath her shirt. The face of the infant on her back had eyes too large for its face. This family was starving.

“Mistress Kira, I hate to interrupt you before you even begin but I find that the midday meal draws near.”

 The dams’ eyes locked with Billa’s, full of weary disappointment, Billa interrupted the mother’s thoughts that she, and her children, may need to wait for the royal to return. “I was wondering if you and your family would do me the honor of joining me?”

“My lady we couldn’t possibly-” She stuttered, clearly shocked at such an offer, silencing her son who began to whine at the mention of food.

“Nonsense” Billa insisted rising from her throne and gesturing to her guards, “you and you children shall accompany us and we shall see what can be done for you.” She stepped from the dais, stopping next to the woman and sharing a smile before dropping to her knees and looking at the small dwarf who was trying to hide behind his mother’s skirts again.

“I am Billa Baggins, little one, at your service.”

“Ba- ba- baldur,” the boy stuttered “son of Nonur, at yours.”

“Tell me Baldur do you like being an older brother?” Billa looked from him to the small bundle on Kira’s back. “Is your sibling a boy or a girl?”

“Lira is my little sister but I haven’t been her **_nadadel_** for very long yet, I’m not sure if I’m any good at it.”

“You led your _Amad_ and _namadith_ here so you must be very brave and strong.” Her words made the boy look up from the ground his eyes searching her face for any hint of untruth.

“That’s what _Amad_ told me too.”

 “You have been walking for so long why don’t you come and join me for lunch and tell me all about being a big brother, hmm? I didn’t have one growing up and I would like to know all about it.” Billa’s smile was soft as she held her arms out to the young boy and waited for him take several small steps forward before she gathered him up and held him on her hip.

Billa left the throne room in stunned silence as she led the small family to a dining room where a large hot meal was waiting. When Kira walked into the room and saw a hot flagon of goat milk waiting for little Lira she almost cried. Baldur was ecstatic at the amount of food Billa kept spooning onto his plate as he chattered about his journey, his sister and their mother, spewing crumbs everywhere.

Baldur’s eyes almost popped out of his head when they were served warm slices of apple pie.

“Ered Mithrin is a quite a distance for a family to travel, especially with two young ones.” Billa was able to talk with Kira as Baldur focused on his dessert.

Kira nodded sullenly and moved Lira to her shoulder firmly patting the infant’s back. “Our mountains are farther north than Erebor and our winters are longer and harder than yours. We were doing well between myself and my-” Kira’s voice hitched “my husband Nonur who scouted for the lord of our halls, Kohim. This winter his patrol ran into an orc pack and he did not return to us. I am a tanner by trade and I could not work in the tannery while nursing Lira but we were getting by on payments from Nonur’s pension. Until one day the money stopped coming and they said there would be no more. I tried to go back to the tannery but they said there was not enough work to go around. So we packed up as soon as the roads were thawed and came here.”

“Oh Kira,” Billa moved to comfort the woman who had lost so much and come so far. “I cannot imagine what you have gone through. We are in need of many craftsmen and I know they have more work than they can handle in the leather district; we need aprons for the smiths and gear for the miners, we even have a contract for tack for Rohan that is taking up most of our time.”

 “Thank you Queen Billa, I will start work tomorrow I swear it.”

Billa felt horrified “Kira while we are busy I did not mean for you to think that you had to be working so soon.” Kira’s face twisted in confusion. “Our mountain is very busy of course but none of the mothers who reside in Erebor are working, at most they complete embroidery or mending and even that is something they have to fight to be able to do.”

Billa held the young mother’s hand, her voice and eyes pleading with her to take this moment, this time to spend with her children and heal from their grief and previous privation.

“The life of these dwarrow was hard during the exile. They lost so much more than a home when Smaug invaded. They lost hundreds of people to the flames and even more to the starvation and rigors of their journey to Dunland. Until two years ago expecting dams had to work regardless of the dangers their craft posed to their unborn. The King has mandated that all mothers with children under fifteen years of age be given a stipend to live off of so they do not have to work. They are given more money than they would ever make in the guild halls.”

Kira’s hand was frozen over her daughter’s back, her mouth dropped open in shock, “Why in the world would he do that? When crafts people are so sorely needed?”

“We’ve been calling it a population incentive,” Billa explained while placing another slice of pie on Baldur’s plate, “the dwarrow race is slowly dying out and none of the kingdoms that are left are doing anything to replace the lives that have been lost. The King and I hope that this incentive will draw young and growing families to settle here. We have more gold than we could ever spend but only enough people to continue family lines for five generations. We need children more than crafters or miners or anything. We want you to have a chance to raise your children and spend the time with them that will make them healthy and strong, give them a childhood and a life of plenty. Please, let us do this for you and your children; it would mean everything to us.” 

Kira couldn’t believe the things the foreign queen was saying. They wanted to pay her to stay home and raise her children? They would be safe and fed and warm and- and- she felt the burn of tears in her eyes and even though she tried to hold them in a few traitorous drops slipped down her cheeks.

“Thank you **_Amadel_**.” she sobbed “Oh gods’ thank you!”

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Hey Everyone! Sorry that this is so very, very late. This chapter is a perfect example of why you should not fight your story. I have been trying to work an extra plot twist into this story but it was fighting me every step of the way. I finally decided to scrap it and rewrite this entire chapter and many parts of the next few.
> 
> Thank you for your patience the next chapter will be up in ONE WEEK to compensate and put me back onto my two week publishing schedule.

Kira was not the first mother that had been surprised at the generosity of the royal family, many dwarves were immigrating to Erebor from the farther Kingdoms and towns of Men and each new resident heard the gossip that surrounded Thorin and his Company. Soon the stories that had been shared in the dining halls during the first winter in Erebor were exaggerated to greater heights.

"Azog was fifteen feet tall!"

"Did you know Smaug was made entirely of ruby and diamond?"

" ** _Amadel_** killed a hundred orcs with her little blade!"

"She twisted King Thorin and King Thranduil's ears until they got along and compromised!"

"King Thorin ripped the white wargs head clean off! I saw it with my own eyes!"

None of the Company could walk into a room without garnering instant attention, a fact that extremely irritated Nori. The looks they received were awe struck and most of them had lads and lasses swooning at their feet for a chance to steal a kiss from one of the "Heroes of Erebor".

This adoration from the general population gave Billa much security in the mountain proper but the love of the "common folk" did nothing to protect her from the Council. She did not have the experience of Thorin, his temper and tenacious inability to die had served him well while ruling Ered Luin. Balin always said Thorin's strategy was to do whatever was best for the people and damn the consequences, the consequences meaning seven attempted assassinations and three attempted coups. Fortunately for Thorin his policy of putting the dwarrow of Ered Luin first made them fiercely loyal to the exiled king. Each coup had met with a quick and bloody counter revolution; the would-be-rulers found it difficult to take over a kingdom where even the scullery maids were actively trying to depose them as their name didn't end with "son of Thrain, son of Thror."

The dwarves who sat upon Thorin's council were some of the oldest, curmudgeonly creatures under the sun. Where before Thorin could ignore their whims since they were as penniless and hungry as he was he now had to politick and maneuver themselves around their adversaries. They had regained their hereditary lands and the resources within them after the retaking of Erebor. These Lords had grown up in a court filled with intrigue and political back stabbing (though sometimes it was literal). The paranoia that plagued Thror had ended the lives and ambitions of much of the noble class, in the last years in Erebor anyone who spoke against the King's wishes was quickly found guilty of treason and soon the only dwarves left were just as greedy as Thror. Many of them had supported Thror's embarrassment of the Elvenking and later encouraged the war to reclaim Moria.

Every day that Billa had to deal with the council was a new grey hair on her head and today was no different. Billa had been sitting on her throne, a delicate construction of stone next to Thorin's with the Arkenstone placed between the two, as two dwarves continued to argue in front of her.

Lord Fivl was insistent that his mines, some of the deepest in the mountain required immediate attention. His concern that the flooding of the lower tunnels would compromise the coal deposits and the structure of the mountain was legitimate but the question was, were the effect of the waters reason enough to pull workers from mines that were closer to the surface and holding more immediately needed resources?

Of course the fact that Billa couldn't stand Lord Fivl on the best of days wasn't helping her keep her patience or a level head. So as Billa continued to rein in her emotions and think with her higher reasoning skills the two dwarves continued to argue at her feet.

"The damage from the flooding could taint not only the deposits themselves but the water supply of the entire mountain!" Fivl shouted into the face of the other dwarf.

"We both know that the spring of the River Running is nowhere near your tainted tunnels and as long as the spring remains clear we have nothing to worry about! Removing the gravel from my shafts helps to uncover iron deposits as well as yield ingredients for concrete for the rebuilding."

The debate quickly devolved into a snarling, argument peppered with  ** _Khuzdul_**  phrases that had the guards at the door itching to bop the two lords over their heads. Billa's head started pounding.

"Gentlemen," she tried to interrupt the two, who were now shouting in each other's faces, spittle flying between and peppering each other's beards, "Gentlemen!" she shouted again her voice too high in comparison to the dwarves to be heard.

She jumped to her feet, slapping her hands onto the armrests of the throne, " ** _SHAZARA!"_** Her voice echoed through the cavernous room making the two turn from their quarrel to look at her; even the guards looked shocked at her outburst.

She took a deep steadying breath. "Each of the resources your mines hold are precious to the people of our Mountain, they gravel allows us to continue building in the present and as such is our highest priority. But," she interrupted the smirk that was spreading on the dwarf's face, "we are never so far from winter that we need not think of the heat the coal will bring us nor can we ignore a legitimate threat to our water source." Lord Fivl looked up at her, possible astonished that they actually agreed on something. "We shall compromise by sending a small team to evaluate the damage to your mines, Lord Fivl and we shall proceed as they recommend. If your coal and our water is in danger we shall shift attention there immediately, if not we shall continue to monitor the situation until the condition changes."

Both dwarrow began nodding along with her words; each feeling as though the Queen had given an answer most suited to their advantage. "Thank you your Majesty." They bowed in unison before leaving the throne room allowing the next set of petitioners to come before the Queen.

* * *

 

Kohim was the last of an ancient line of dwarrow, Blacklocks, which fled the Orocarni Mountains after the War of Wrath and found refuge in the northern range, naming them after the color of their frozen peaks. Joachim, his ancestor found this mountain, an ancient volcano with crude tunnels and halls that his followers turned into a home.

Of course times were hard when they settled, the world was still torn and scarred from the wrath of Morgoth and his children but his people created a settlement and homes and managed to eke out a living, sparse though it was. But over the centuries things got harder instead of easier, the land refused to yield good crops and the Mountain they had held so much hope for continued to produce paltry veins of common ores and coal. Each generation was born a little harder, and little bitterer as life continued to wear on the world. Kohim was perhaps the most bitter of all; his wife, a political match that gave his people hundreds of cows and rams for food and war had ended with her being disillusioned with noble life, making her grow grey and pale. She passed several years ago leaving Kohim with no heir to succeed him but two daughters instead. They were stupid and dull girls and he had little hope of setting up a match for either of them that would give him the resources his people needed for such a hard life.

But there were rays of hope, the resettling of Erebor strained their resources but it brought two unwed nobles to the area that were set to inherit their own kingdoms eventually. Fili, the Crown Prince of Erebor and Kili, heir apparent of Thorin's Halls in Ered Luin.

His people were dwindling and dire times would soon be upon them all, and dire times called for drastic measures. So he had taken a  ** _zinkharkal_** into his mountain and in exchange he learned everything. Erl's information was astounding in its volume and detail. He knew the schedule of the restoration, the names of most of the garrison and the story of the Battle of the Five Armies. Erl's information turned into a list of names that over the past year had turned into contacts and a small but dedicated network with in Erebor. For the first in many years, the spring held hope for Kohim he just needed to complete a few more pieces before revealing his puzzle.

So Kohim met with his advisers and together they sent a raven winging through the skies towards Erebor.

* * *

 

Ori knocked on the door to the royal chambers his bag stuffed with scrolls and letters from every corner of the world. Ori's mastery had given him a coveted position within the rebuilding kingdom and as soon as more scribes arrived from Ered Luin he was drafted into service for the Royal Family; being the head scribe to the royal family was a busy job that kept him on his feet much of the day. He attended the most important council meetings and assigned other scribes to any that he could not make. It was his job to deliver official correspondence to the King and Queen and pen their replies. So Ori did not really have time to wait about for Billa to open the door; he knocked again anyway.

Her guards were here, so she should be here and Billa would usually tell the guards if she was tending her balcony garden.

"Perhaps you should just go in, Master Ori." One of the guards chimed in when he started to knock a third time. "The King is not here, so there's nothing to fear inside those walls." He teased.

"Of course, thank you Captain." Ori braced himself and open the door.

It was silent inside; the sitting room fire blazed merrily and a tray was set upon the table with tea and cheese scones, but there was no Billa. Perhaps she needed something in the study and hadn't returned yet?

Nope, no Billa.

The garden? He strode to the large set of double doors and looked through the glass to the balcony beyond. It was amongst the dark and dormant dirt that he found his friend.

"Isn't it a little cold to be sowing seeds?" Ori teased as he walked through the doors; and indeed it did seem so since Billa was wrapped in leather with heavy winter gloves between her hands the trowel.

"You should know that nothing stands in the way of Hobbits and their gardening." Billa replied before sitting back on her knees, scowling at the dirt where she made several furrows.

"Not even frozen dirt?" Ori teased.

"If I can get Elves, Men and Dwarrow to get along then I can certainly plant seeds in frozen dirt." Billa sniped back, throwing her nose in the air.

"Of course" Ori replied, playing along with Billa's tone "how could I have forgotten that Hobbits can do anything; kill dragons, tame orcs and sing crops from the fields without seeds or water-"

"I can do what now?" Billa interrupted incredulously, pausing in her attempts to continue trenching the packed earth.

"Oh you hadn't heard? Apparently we brought a magic hobbit back from the Shire and she is going to be the savior of us all blah, blah, blah." He waved his hand in a blasé circle.

She sat there, stunned, "Well that's- that's just ridiculous!" she stuttered.

"Well I know that." Ori put his bag down and sat next to her and started unpacking his scrolls. "And you know that but the rest of the Mountain is pretty sure you make the sun rise."

Billa scoffed as she grabbed a small leather pouch and poured tiny orange seeds into her hand. "Valar help me then if it ever decides not to rise. Now what do you have for me today, I have no plans to abandon my tomatoes until they are securely planted so we might as well work out here." So Ori pick up a message from one of the many kingdoms of Middle Earth and began reading it to the busy Hobbit lass.

"The Lady Galadriel is pleased by the progress of the Celdan and reports that their portion should reach the Mirkwood section in the next two years. They have even begun using the path to transport goods to Rohan and Gondor."

"You best pass that one onto Thorin you know how excited he gets over news about his pet project."

Thorin's "pet project" was the  _Celden_  or Running Road; a road of 370 leagues to connect the six greatest kingdoms this side of the Misty Mountains. Thorin had contracted men from Esgaroth and Dale to do the labor of the building in exchange for funding the project and providing materials. The road already stretched to the outskirts of Mirkwood and would soon begin twisting into the forest itself. The other kingdoms sent regular progress reports out and the trade route would be completed within the next decade, the campsites, inn and guard stations would be completed after that.

Ori put the message into a small pile that would be passed along to people who would benefit from the information more than Billa.

He pulled another from the bag, this one a thick and coarse parchment on a burnished steel roller. The seal was a sword plunged through a keyhole. "Hmm I think this one is from Ered Mithrin." Ori guessed as he unrolled it and began to read.

" **King Thorin Oakenshield and Queen Billa Amadith,**

**It is with great joy that we accept your invitation to participate in trade talks between our two kingdoms. I believe that we have much to offer each other in this prosperous age. Lord Kohim would be honored to attend these negations in person and offer his congratulations on your wedding and progress of Erebor. Lord Kohim and the Ladies Turmalim and Erenim shall be arriving within the seventh crescent moon of this year*. We look forward to re-forging the bonds of old with the strength of new beginnings."**

"Didn't we send that Invitation out before Yule?" Billa questioned. In fact they had sent the same invitation out to every dwarf Kingdom in Middle Earth; it was surprising that Ered Mithrin, the closest kingdom, was the last to respond.

"Well you've heard the stories about Lord Kohim. It's not that surprising when you consider it."

And it wasn't. Billa heard stories of Kohim and life in the Grey Mountains, a hard and desolate place that never felt the summer sun. It was a hard land that grew hard people. "That mother, Kira, was from there. I wonder what he thinks he has to trade with us, it sounded like they had very little of anything."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Ori began putting all the letters and responses back into his bag "I'm pretty sure he named his greatest good already."

Billa looked over the letter another time, "You mean his daughters? What in the world does he want to trade them for?"

Ori giggled, "There are only three single dwarf nobles on this side of the world in their age group, two of which live in this very mountain."

"Oh gods," Billa groaned "you mean he wants to marry them to Fili and Kili? Dis is not going to like that idea; not one bit."

Dis' protectiveness of her sons was legendary; many speculated that Azog would have died much sooner if he had ever gone after the Princes while she was near.

The two were interrupted when Thorin strode onto the balcony, "What isn't Dis going to like?" he unclasped his cloak and set his crown onto a patio table. "I'm sorry I am so late Billa but the mine inspection could not be rushed."

"That's alright dear; we still have plenty of time to clean up before dinner. It's almost dark out here anyway." And indeed dusk was heavy on the horizon when she stood up and brushed off her gardening leathers. "Ori has some things for you from the Lady Galadriel and we will need to plan for a delegation from the Grey Mountains, shortly after the  **Furkhêkurikl Danukkhulbüzidîn,** the enterprising Lord Kohim will be bringing his unwed, of age daughters along as well."

Thorin chuckled knowingly, Dis had always insisted her sons would marry for love and not for politics even when a political marriage of the Princes or himself would have given them much help she had refused any and all offers from Lords across the world.

"Then we shall prepare the mountain for guests and perhaps Balin should give Fili and Kili some lessons in how to turn a lady down politely but that is a discussion for tomorrow. Come inside both of you it is much too cold to be outside for so long. Especially without a coat," He eyed Ori reproachfully who just rolled his eyes in return.

"Yes thank you for that Dori." Ori groused before running from the royal couple, dodging Thorin's hand as it tried to swipe at his head; cackling when he missed.

"He used to squeak when I talked to him." Thorin told a giggling Billa as he took her arm "did you know that? I would speak and he would shake so hard I could hear his knees knocking together in awe and now" he sighed dramatically "now he teases me!"

"You poor dear," Billa patted his hand consoling as they continued through their rooms and towards the dining hall "it's a good thing you didn't have a dwarf army for the quest after all or no one would be in awe of your majesty anymore; though I will certainly always be in awe of other parts of you." Billa's eyes turned teasing and bright as she pinched him and took off down the hall after Ori.

Thorin continued his leisurely stroll instead of taking off after his wife; admiring the view of her skirts billowing behind her.

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay you guys, I had to split this chapter into two parts to make it flow properly. Fair warning, the next chapter is going to get pretty steamy. I will update the tags appropriately and will update the second half on friday (4/25) so people don't get too confused about where they are in the story. 
> 
> I know I have been really terrible with this story. I don't really have any reason for it and I'm sorry for that, I know that it can get really frustrating waiting on an Author that you just don;t even know if they are still writing or if they died out in the real world. Just know that my Husband has my passwords and if something ever happened to me in a permanent way, you would all get updated about it.

**Chapter Four**

 

Dwalin stepped through Thorin’s guard force as Billa and Ori ran off to the dining hall together. “You’re staring Thorin.” Dwalin chimed in when the King’s smile went from indulgent to sappy.

“As if others aren’t.” he growled back to his old friend, sending a glower to the other guards that had escorted them from their rooms; many who had been giving Billa more attention than their surroundings. Dwalin gave a hearty laugh as many of the guards shifted uncomfortably at having been caught.

“You can hardly expect them to keep their eyes to themselves when you flaunt her about as you do; ordering her new clothes and coats, don’t think we haven’t noticed that they aren’t only dwarven in design.” He made a crude gesture of bosoms spilling over his shirt collar.

“If my wife wants to wear shire dresses, who am I to stop her?” the king replied haughtily, though his red ears gave away his true intentions.

The two friends continued down through the hallways passing palace staff and workers greeting each with head nods as everyone made their way towards the dining hall.

“Have you heard anything from Nori lately?” The King had meeting with his spymaster, though they were never regular or even in regular places.

“He hasn’t surfaced on my radar for a couple weeks now; last I heard he was tailing some leads in the mines. I could ask Bofur to scent him out if you have need.”

“It’s nothing worth pulling him for right now but I will need his expertise sooner than I thought. We will be having a delegation from the Grey Mountains this spring.”

Dwalin’s face went blank as he turned to his friend, “Kohim?” he asked.

“Kohim.” Thorin nodded in return.

“Does Billa know?”

“I don’t want to worry her yet. She has enough on her plate as it is.” Thorin admitted softly.

Dwalin grunted in agreement as the two finally reached the dining hall. Thorin was right to be concerned; Kohim had been vehement in refusing assistance to any of Erebor’s fleeing dwarves and had been even worse when Thorin announced his attention to retake the mountain. Nori needed to be informed as soon as possible, if he didn’t know about it already that is.

* * *

 

“I already know.” Nori materialized into Thorin’s office from one of the darker corners. The first time Nori had done this Thorin jump so hard he knocked ink across all the paperwork on his desk. Now he calmly re sheathed the dagger strapped under his desk drawer.

“What do you think about it then?” he turned from his work, gesturing Nori to a side table with a decanter of liquor and several glasses. Nori smirked when he saw two glasses already filled and waiting. Thorin was getting better at anticipating him, a helpful skill when much of their communication was veiled or silent.

“I think that Kohim is dangerous, he always has been.” The spy swirled the amber liquid in his glass, Thorin nodded his agreement.

 “The big difference that now he isn’t half a world away, he is in our back yard. He doesn’t have enough power or resources us to challenge you directly, that would have been Dain’s ploy, so anything that he does, any move made or word spoken will be cloaked in the shadows.” Nori had spent months creating the dossiers on the other nobles and powerful families that Thorin would have to deal with after he captured the mountain and while it was true that many of them held more favorable information than he expected none of them were completely clean. There was no such thing as a true ally in the game of international politics and while their relations with surrounding kingdoms were growing stronger, it was still fragile. The men and elves would care little who ruled in Erebor as long as trade continued, which it would have to no matter the King and the only thing that stayed Dain’s hand in the scramble for power and glory was a secure kingdom of his own and Thorin’s generous coffers, and perhaps some misguided notion of Durin pride tosh though it was.

“I’d suggest getting an agent into his camp if they weren’t so small already. Anyone who hasn’t lived and served is sure to be obvious to everyone and I haven’t had a contact on the correct side of their guard force in years.” Nori surmised their options grimly, “We have little to do but wait until they arrive, once they are here we will be able to reevaluate and plan our next move based on the weakness of his party, but until then” he shrugged “that’s all we can do except wait for the spring thaw.”

Thorin threw his head back and swallowed the last mouthful in his glass, “If that’s what you advise then that is what we shall do, but the moment they get within sight of this mountain I want them watched, carefully, discreetly but they must never be left alone.”

Nori stood from the small table and clasped Thorin’s shoulder as he strode toward the door into the hall.

“What you’re not going to disappear in the shadows or a cloud of smoke?” Thorin joked to the ginger dwarf.

The ginger thief sighed dramatically, turning large doe eyes back towards the table, “Why use parlor tricks when you’re not even impressed by them anymore? My skills are wasted on you.”

Thorin winked and tipped his empty glass in a silent salute as Nori walked out of the room without alerting the guardsmen that he was leaving without having actually entered.

* * *

 

The storeroom was located just inside the gates of the Mountain; it had shelves up to the ceiling and barrels sat upon the floor in neat rows. In one of these rows was a Hobbit, a clipboard slung around her waist as she balanced her weight on a barrel, desperately searching for the label on the one behind it.

She had designed the system herself. Each crate, sack and barrel had been given a wax label that corresponded to its proper planting spot come spring. The most recent shipment that had entered the mountain came from the Shire and had yet to be sorted. She wiggled further onto the barrel to lie on her stomach and drape herself over the next to see behind it. Ignorant of the looks she was receiving from the dwarves assisting her, she twisted and turned and finally found it.

“Seamus!” she yelled, dismounting from her awkward position “These four rows all need to go with the other greens.”

Her call brought a large dwarf with a fiery orange Mohawk, his beard sporting several symmetrical braids down his jawline, each capped with a steel bead. He did not have the tattoos of a seasoned warrior but he had quickly risen though Dwalin’s training ranks. Seamus was a new favorite of Billa’s, his temper matched his hair, and he wasn’t afraid to go toe to toe with Dwalin and Thorin in regard to her protection needs. He was happy to tell the King when he was closing in on ridiculousness in his demands.

_“She dunnae need a full contingent just to take a bleeding walk, Sire_!”

So he was currently coopted into Billa’s retinue and he wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.

Seamus came over with three other dwarfs and they grabbed the barrels and began to cart them into their proper section.

She had one week to finish the sorting of this shipment and finalize the plans for the first planting before turning over the project to someone else. Gods how she hated that, putting in months of work only to give it to someone else; she wasn’t being greedy but she wanted to be the one to sow these first seeds, to lovingly plant more trees in the fledgling orchard  but instead she was expected to stay inside the mountain and “recuperate” from the festival. Apparently it would be unseemly if the Queen was able to assist in the planting, let alone walk, after being so wholly ravished. Which was utter tosh of course; Thorin wasn’t the only one with a limp after their honeymoon.

So she sorted and annotated and silently stewed.

“That’s all for today Seamus!” her shout rang to the furthest corners of the room, allowing the mohawked dwarf to come running back to her side.

“Are we due elsewhere Majesty?” He politely questioned the abrupt change in schedule.

“I feel the need to visit the training grounds. There is usually an arena or two free, this late at night.” She eyed Seamus well-muscled torso with glittering eyes. “I’m certain I haven’t gotten a chance to grapple with you yet. Allow me to run you through your paces.”

* * *

 

“She’s mad at you.” Ori blurted across the desk to Thorin, Balin’s head shot up where as Thorin calmly met Ori’s flushed face.

“I know.” He sighed and kneaded the muscles of his neck, sore from last night which he, again, spent on the settee by the fire instead of in his bed with his wife.

“What are you going to do about it?” Ori questioned. “Because you should really, really do something.” The scribe pleaded.

Balin heaved an aggrieved sigh, “Clearly we won’t be working on these anymore.” and began packing away the scrolls scattered across the shared expanse of table.

“I know that Ori, but this is one of those things that cannot be helped, no matter how uncomfortable our living room furniture is.”

Ori sighed at his Kings’ idiocy, “I’m not saying that making Billa happy will mean going against centuries of tradition, but perhaps it may mean tweaking it just a tippy, tappy bit.” He grinned, in a manner eerily reminiscent of his older brother, towards the King. “You know how Billa likes things to be fair, and maybe the King isn’t the only one who can leave their spouse weak kneed and wearied.”

Thorin picked his head up from the desk and allowed a smile to stretch beneath his beard. “Oh, that I know is the truth.” Ori squeaked at the lascivious grin that broke through Thorin’s beard.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, for you fellow WWE fans, Seamus is totally the pro wrestler. 
> 
> https://uproxx.files.wordpress.com/2015/04/wlsheamus.jpg?w=650&h=366
> 
> He has beads in his braided beard and a mohawk. He is the most dwarfish person in the world. 
> 
> Props to Mika, for spotting it first and making me want to add this!


	5. The Seeding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just porn. Straight up, 2,500 words of porn. 
> 
> I need a drink after writing this, and you may need a cigarette after reading it. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Chapter Five

 

“I’m nervous.” Billa admitted out loud to herself.

The week had gone by quickly, almost impossibly fast, and now she stood waiting in an antechamber for the Seeding to begin. Her skin smelt heavily of lavender, and the green silks were sticking to her from the sweat that gathered under her breasts and between her thighs.

“Tis just stage fright, I’m sure.” Balin tried to placate her, not truly understanding where her anxiety was coming from. How could he, dwarrow that he was, know that what she was about to do went against the societal norms of her homeland? Sure, many of her habits now were scandalous by Shire standards, she would already be considered quite the deviant exhibitionist for the mauling she committed in the hallways but this was a whole different level. Just because people in the Shire knew what you were doing in the high hedged section of your garden didn’t mean they watched it or talked about it. Everybody knew but nobody KNEW.

She shook herself, removing those thoughts from her head. This was not a decision she had made lightly, in fact she had agonized over it, torn between her old home and the new. But she knew what she had to do, what she wanted to do, and that was giving life to this Mountain, to her people. She straightened her shoulders and grinned back at Balin, stage fright was only for the inexperienced, and she was certainly not inexperienced when it came to bed sport with Thorin.

There was a knock on the wooden door and Billa paced forward striding through the opening door and into the Main Hall. Thorin was leaving the room opposite hers and when their eyes met her breath caught in her throat. He was resplendent; he wore mithril and steel armor over a thick blue coat, white warg fur on the hems. His hair shone with oil, he had dozens of braids all plaited differently. He truly did look god-like. She heard whispers ripple through the hall as they strode towards each other, towards a priest and priestess bedecked in gold holding an unlit censer, a raised dais behind them, a bed.

“Our Kingdom is blessed.” The priest began after Billa and Thorin had knelt before him.

“By the strength of Mahal” responded the audience.

“Our race is renewed” the priestess’ voice was lighter but still rang through the hall.

“By the grace of Yavanna” they intoned back.

“We offer these vessels, most beloved amongst us, with which to work your magicks.” The priest and priestess shouted in unison, lighting the censers.

“They are willing.” was shouted back.

The priest set the censer on the floor near Thorin, while the Priestess did the same for Billa. She felt the tide of nervousness rise up and reached for Thorin’s hand.

“Breathe deep from the fires which forged us.”

Together they tilted their heads and took deep breaths.

In. The whispers of the crowd were loud in her ears, a million tittering voices and whispers echoed on the stone. Out.

In. The smoke was acrid and heavy, it wasn’t smooth like Old Toby, and it wasn’t a tamed plant that they burned. It pulled at her throat and lungs like pine smoke. Out.

Again and again she pulled the smoke into her lungs, she was almost desperate to breathe in something different, something sweet and fresh. She took deeper, and futile, breaths until she was almost panting to take in clear air. But the smoke hung heavily and the censer still burned and her head began to swim. She squeezed Thorin’s hand harder; his breath echoed hers; deep and heavy and fast. With every breath she felt the smoke wiggle into her system, her limbs getting heavier the world getting a little fuzzier; and she felt warm. There was heat climbing up her neck and into her face.

She moaned and went limp, falling forward into Thorin’s arms. She could scarcely muster the strength to lift her head from his chest, his armor not bothering her like it usually did, but the look on his face was worth the energy expended. His face was red beneath his beard, and his teeth were bared in a half grin, half snarl as he breathed deeply, his nose flaring as he took in more of the smoke. Instead of looking languid he seemed agitated, like a horse waiting to be given full rein. He dropped his face to hers and took another large inhale, his eyes going impossibly dark as he growled at her and buried his face into her neck.

The feeling of his beard against her skin was amplified a hundred fold; each bristle of his beard ricocheting into the tips of her fingers and toes and the languid heat in her face spread through the rest of her body.

“Thorin.” She moaned again and she fought her heavy limbs to bury a hand in his hair, keeping him tucked against her neck.

“Thorin.”

He growled back at her, his hands heavy and clumsy began to stroke her face. She felt as if she would never move from Thorin’s side, as if his hands had grown and attached to her and they would live together like two trees grown into one. Until his panting on her neck turn to licks of his broad tongue up the side of her neck, onto her face and to her ear. The heat that had been so languid in her body turned into an inferno, she shuddered from head to toe as a trickle of wet warmth touched her inner thighs. She cried out, “Oh gods!” as he licked and kissed her ear, over and over again.

“Oh gods, oh gods! Thorin please, please let me come. I want to come. Make me come.” She begged him, her voice high and breathy, but instead of finishing her he pulled back from her face and laughed. With his head tilted back and his mouth open his laughed echoed through the room and perhaps Billa would have noticed the rising murmur of the crowd if she hadn’t been so heavy with smoke and arousal.

 “You will not call me Thorin. I am your King, your husband,” the voice that was usually deep and rumbling, comforting like a summer storm was darker, a hint of steel behind the words, an edge of dark and danger. “I took you from your green home, I wedded you and I bedded you and I would have everyone know that you are mine! I will plant my seed in your belly and your powers will make it grow and grow and grow.” Her King pushed her backwards onto the mattress beneath them and started untying the laces at her wrists, each delicate knot and weave falling apart in his skilled fingers. She moved her head back and forth as each brush of his skin, each breath from his mouth made her shudder, sending more slick down her thighs. “Please husband, please. I ache!” she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut as he ripped her bodice open in impatience, bearing her breasts to the air of the chamber. A warm mouth closed over her breast, his tongue caressing the nipple into a hardened peak as his hand went back up to her ear.

“I’m going to fuck you.” He murmured, when he broke for air, moving his face down her belly, ripping her delicate dress with the strength of his teeth and jaw. “I’m going to take you over and over until my mountain is dripping with fertility, until the Elves of Mirkwood can smell it on the fucking air.”

She whimpered at the dark words and the flashes of desire they brought her, tears fell from the corners of her eyes. “Please, please!” she sobbed, “I’m burning, I swear it, straight from the inside and I can’t-“ her breath hitched as her dress ripped between his hands exposing her wet and flushed cunt to the room, “I can’t-“ His breath was right there, right over her clit and if he would just lick her, touch her, gods anything, she may just make it out of this alive and sane but his hands were like bands of iron at her waist and he pinned her with his strength like she had no more fight than a kitten.

He chuckled darkly at her struggles, so useless were they; they only served to make him hotter and harder. “I’m going to wreck you.” He snarled before burying his head between her thighs, licking her from opening to hood, making her hands clamp over his wrists as her back arched off the floor, her hips skittering to retreat from the feelings of ‘too much, too hot’ but he would not let her go. He used his tongue to torture her, fucking her with it as he ate her out, his nose grinding into her clit. His beard rasped her thighs and he moved her, tilting her hips higher and higher as if her spasms were no hindrance to his strength, his will. She cried out, her orgasm ripping through her, pulled out of her by force of the King’s sucking mouth.

“Yes!” he cried, pulling his hands up to her breasts and cupping them as her hips jerked and twitched beneath his face, “Yes my Queen, come for me, only for me!” he roared to the room.

She wanted his face lower, back between her thighs were she could keep riding it to the heights of pleasure over and over. She tried to bury her hands in her husband’s dark hair, to pull him back down to taste and lick her again but he moved faster, grasping her wrists and pinning them above her head, moving to encircle both of her with only one of his hands. The room seemed to swirl when she opened her eyes, tears of frustration leaking out as she struggled to rut against his harder body. But his face was steady and clear before her, his eyes still dark and burning with want as they gazed at her and his face was smeared with her spend. But he was implacable and would not give in to her whines and whimpers, her moans and weak attempts for rub against him like a cat in heat. Instead he brought his hand between them, the metal of his rings just as hot against her as his flesh had been, and she could tell from his face that he was now gripping his cock, stroking it up and down with his own fingers instead of burying it inside her where it belonged.

And she BURNED! Her insides were liquid fire and he was teasing her, drawing out her agony for his own satisfaction and her burning arousal turned to fiery rage.

Just as Thorin pressed his cock against her lips she bucked, pulling her hands to her shoulders and out of his grip and her knees around his waist, sweeping his knees to the side and him onto his back.

“I am your Queen!” her breasts were heaving from the exertion of moving the muscular dwarf,  her cunt dripping above him as she sat on his hips, raising up on her knees.  “If you will not give my pleasure then I will take it!” and with that roar she canted her hips forward, catching her King’s cock and sliding down upon it in one thrust.  He looked bewildered, sprawled beneath her, his face slack as her ass rested on his hips, his hands grasping uselessly at her breasts and hips, he moaned, “Yes, my Queen, my Wife, **_kurduh, kurduh, kurduh!”_** he chanted with the rise and fall of her hips.

Gods he was so big, the stretch was exquisite, and the fire burning inside her was building with each grind of her clit onto his stomach.  The pressure was building inside, even though the pace was erratic and she couldn’t keep a rhythm she felt herself near tears again, her eyes screwed shut as her inner walls started to spasm, each clench punching a gasp from her husband beneath her. She couldn’t sit up straight, her body bowing with the force of it all, making her lean forward and brace herself on the armored chest beneath her which brought her clit even more pressure. There were no words left, none that she could utter with her lack of wits and breath as her body wound to its tightest point and she struggled to release the tension around the cock inside her, she howled, she screamed, and the pleasure within her burst, her cunt spasming out of control to bring him deeper, to keep him locked inside forever. The torrent of heat and wet and pleasure blinded her to her Husband’s answering roar as his hands gripped her hips like iron bands and he fucked up and into her, grinding her against him as he emptied himself deeper than her ever had.

She fell forward completely, resting her cheek against the armor on his chest as his hands clenched and unclenched around her, one hand traveled up her back, still coved in her dress, and tilted her face up for a kiss, so they could feast on each other’s mouths with deep, openmouthed kisses. His tongue darted in and out of her mouth just as his cock had done and she felt an answering throb in her loins that brought a groan from her handsome dwarf causing him to rut up into her again; because even though he had come he was still hard inside her.

Her breath hitched as her swollen clit ground down into his pelvis and he pulled his lips back to growl at her. “I am not done with you yet Queen of my heart.” as he used his strength to flip onto her back without dislodging himself from inside of her.

“I will never be done with you!” she cried out as he took up the pace again, crying out her pleasure for the entire kingdom to hear.

* * *

 

When the Seeding was completed, the magic smoke of the Yavanna’s golden flower finally dissipating from the heads of their monarchs, the Company would bundle them in rich purple silks and begin the trek back to the Royal chambers. The dwarrow of Erebor stood as the sleeping forms were walked down the aisle of the temple, reverent in their silence and heady from the magic that still lingered, some reaching out to brush their fingers along the hands and feet of their King and Queen. And the Company allowed the touches know that the ones who reached out would not be seeking rest tonight, regardless of the massive works to be done tomorrow when they would plant the fields they had tilled, they would take advantage of any magic left in the air for their fields were now fertile and they desired more from this magic than food for winter.

 


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who is giving this another go? That's right! It's a Me! Let see if I can get back into the swing of things and finish the story you have all been beyond patient for.

Chapter 6

It’s not even morning anymore, possibly late afternoon, if the amount of sunlight penetrating her eyelids is anything to go by. “Nnngggg.” Billa groans and struggles to open them against the weight of sleep and grit, only to be blinded by the light of the room.

There is a shift behind her and a hand starts rubbing her forehead, “Too bright?”

The presence, Thorin’s presence, moves to sit up, his bulk casting a shadow over her and dulling the light. “Would you like some water? I was quite thirsty when I woke too, and Oin left us each a tonic for the headache, and any other aches.”

Billa moans again, still hiding behind closed eyes at the leer she could absolutely hear in Thorin’s voice. “Yes, to all of those.”

He dropped the tonic in her waiting hands, careful not to jostle the bed as he sat next to her. Billa popped the vial and downed the bitter medicine, a grimace crossing her face. “Gods, that is vile.”

Thorin hid his smile in her shoulder, “I think Oin does it on purpose, people who hate treatment are, supposedly, more cautious about needing it in the first place.”

Billa scoffed, “Or they just lie about being injured at all.”

“Let us be honest then, for I am rather sore and hungover.” Thorin twined his fingers with Billa’s and tugged her into his chest, “Come back to bed with me **_kurduh._** ”

Billa did not fight him as he dragged her down onto the mattress with him. Some time and rest would allow the tonic to do its work, and then they could find food and their family.

* * *

 

The following weeks were a whirlwind of activity around the mountain. The fields were lined with furrows, small specks of green broke through fresh dirt as Billa’s workshop seedlings reached towards fresh sunlight. A man knelt in the grass, inspecting lambs in a paddock, a dwarrowdam taking each one to a weaning paddock when he was done with them. A cart rumbled between the lines in an orchard, driven by a dwarrow as a troupe of young men followed along behind with pole saws and clippers.

The force of these two races was stamped across the surrounding landscape and it was, disgusting.

Lord Kohim sneered from atop his ram, everywhere around him the mountain gleamed. Each stamp of his mounts hooves churned up rich, dark dirt. What splendor, what plenty these Ereborians had at their feet! In his periphery the curtain on a carriage fluttered, two pinched faces peered out.

“Turmalim, Erenim!” he snapped to his daughters. Their gazes jumped to his face but never met his eyes, “Do not forget why we are here. Do not forget why you are here.”

“Never, Adad.” Turmalim replied, and Erenim nodded.

Kohim scoffed, and faced forward, towards the towering gates of Erebor the last Durin stronghold in all of Middle Earth.

* * *

 

The battlements were her favorite spot in all of Erebor, it was the only place you could see the stretch of rich farmland framed by the shining of the long lake and the dark colors of the Greenwood. When Billa stood on this spot no being in Middle Earth was taller than her, not Wizards, Giants or Dragons. Here she could tower over them all.

“Uncle’s bound to get worried over how much time you spend up here.” Fili appeared from the shadows of the mountain, Kili on his heels.

“And your mother is likely to skin you both if she sees you’ve not dressed for the arrival yet.”

“You won’t tell on us will you Auntie Billa?” they turned wide, watery eyes on her.

Billa smirked at the two tricksters, her brothers and nephews in one, and turned her face into the sun, “Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about me.”

“But me on the other hand,” a cool voice drawled from behind them, a snicker tore from the guards nearby, “you should very much worry about.” Dis glared at her boys, her hands crossed over her chest.

“Hello Mother!” Kili chirped. Fili put his face down on the cool stone and waved.

Billa laughed.

* * *

 

Thorin shifted in his throne, perhaps sensing Nori’s gaze from his spot in the shadows. He had been working diligently to establish a network before Kohim arrived from Ered Mithrin. Normally Nori liked to use infiltration as his main source of espionage, things were always easier when he was the primary source of information; but it would be impossible to slip into these ranks of soldiers and attendants that typically accompany a royal entourage, their number was too few an outsider would be noticed immediately.  So that left plans B and C, also known as observe and overhear. Admittedly, this would be much easier now that the royal coffers could handle the bar tabs these plans required. In this case it would have to do, and Nori was pleased to report his extensive network was ready to receive and report on all the movements of Kohim and his people.

Nori stepped out of the shadows, Thorin’s surprise betrayed by the twitch of his hand towards his dagger. “Easy now Sire. I’ve got good news today.”

Thorin waved his guards away, clearing space around the throne, where he waited for the Ered Mithrin delegation.                

Nori continued quietly, ever aware of the echoing of the throne room, “I have as many people in place as we could find, but I worry it won’t be enough.”

Thorin knew establishing a reliable network would be difficult in the amount of time they had. Their people had spent so long wandering and living and trading with dwarrow and people of other regions, that loyalties had to be checked anew, especially when so many new dwarrow had joined the population of Erebor. Ered Mithrin accounted for almost a hundred new citizens alone, not including Ereborians with old family ties or those who had lived off meager trade and wandering.

“We have done all we can do Nori.” Thorin counseled, “We must trust in ourselves and in our people.”

Nori hummed in uncertainty as he slunk back into the shadows of the room. Nori had not made it this far by trusting in “the people”, but Thorin had and perhaps that would suffice.

* * *

 

“ ** _Amad_** , please don’t make us stand through this.” Kili groaned from his spot to the left of Billa’s throne, where he was slumped dramatically over the armrest. Dis continued to fuss over Fili’s braids and tunic, who bore the attention with grace befitting the Crown Prince of a kingdom (he was carefully casing the exits hoping to make his escape the first moment Dis’s attention was divided). Dis sighed in exasperation at her first-borns wild eyes, “You’re not nearly as fast as when you were a dwarfling Fili, if I could catch you then I can catch you now.” Fili groaned loudly and undid his mother’s hard work by flopping over Kili’s back.

Thorin and Billa ignored them and surveyed the show of strength the Company, sans Fili and Kili were making. Thorin and Billa were resplendent on their twin thrones, the light of the Arkenstone shining off the Raven crown on Thorin’s head, his steel scale armor and Orcrist his only trappings over his blue silk doublet. Billa’s flower crown, made for their wedding, threw dazzling colors across the room, her light blue dress a bright contrast to the dark of Thorin. Fili and Kili stood to their right with Dis and Dwalin, Nori and Bifur were on guard slightly behind them. The rest of Company fanned down the stairs, an aisle lined with legend to support the royal family.

A page scurried through the doors and up to Balin, whispering his ear. “They’re here.” Balin stated to the assembled room, a mask of polite indifference sliding into place. The words rippled through the Company, each putting on their own disguise, a courtly face to match their courtly garb.

A loud knock sounded at the doors to the throne room, and a voice echoed from a balcony, “Presenting Lord Kohim of Ered Mithrin, and his daughters the Ladies Tourmalim and Erenim.”

Kohim looked much like any ageing dwarrow, silver hair and beard to his knees, decorated as lavishly as could be afforded with beads of gold, and there was a row of gold running up both his ears, but his eyes were like no dwarrow Billa had met. They were heavy on his face, almost sunken into the skull and emphasized by harsh lines of kohl around the eyelids. His gaze passed briefly over those assembled looking over her within a scant second before boring into Thorin’s.

“King Thorin Oakenshield!” Kohim’s voice boomed along the ceiling, “Long have we waited the return of the line of Durin to the East.”

Thorin’s face twitched at the thinly veiled jibe, and with a great amount of discipline rose from his seat, gently pulling Billa up as well, and beckoned the other ruler forward. “Lord Kohim, long have I waited to meet you inside these halls.” Billa squeezed Thorin’s hand in hers, now was not the time to rise to petty verbal jabs. “Please be welcome in my halls.”

As the two families traded introductions, Billa presented as Queen of Erebor and **_Amadith_** and Turmalim and Erenim discarded their cloaks revealing dull brown hair and sharp gray eyes, a figure watched from within the ranks of the Ered Mithrin guards. His helmet covered his face, one hand resting on his spear, the other covered in a thick leather glove at his side, unmoving. The Grey Mountains were so dreary compared to Erebor, where there was light and laughter and plenty. Mahal it felt good to be back where her belonged, beneath the heavy helmet he smiled as sweat dripped down his bald head and face.

 

 

 

               

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

 

 


End file.
